New Beginnings: Fast Cars and First Times
by Mizzykitty
Summary: A sequel to the fic New Beginnings. They were originally one long fic, but I decided to break them up because they are essentially two different stories although they run in the same universe. YAOI. Keisuke/Shingo.
1. Chapter 1

Keisuke milled around the gallery, feeling largely extraneous. Ryousuke had everything under control, as usual. Of course, he needed to be on hand in case his brother did want something, but until that happened, he was free to do whatever he liked. The other team was gathered on the far side of the gallery, the Nightkids he'd heard. They were a new team, and they were keen to make a name for themselves. Logically, they wanted to measure themselves against an established team like the Redsuns, but they didn't have to win in order to succeed in this. Ryousuke had run the Redsuns for the last two years, and since then, their record had been near perfect. It was unlikely that an upstart team would beat them on the first try. How well the Nightkids raced, however, would determine their rank among the other teams, who were their real competition. Someday, perhaps, they might be ready to really challenge the Redsuns, but not tonight. Keisuke roamed into the nether land between the team areas. This was where the wannabes parked, racers too young or inexperienced to make any team as of yet. They came to every meet, lived, breathed, and drank touge. Some had promise, and some would never make it. His ongoing assignment was to differentiate the two, and watch the ones that showed skill. Ryousuke was always on the look out for the next great talent. Till then, Keisuke combed the crowds. As he came to the edge of the gallery, someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him into a dark clump of trees.

"What the-"

"Shh!"

A face emerged from the darkness, a face from the past. He was a little older, and a little harder, but recognizable nonetheless.

"Shingo?" Keisuke blurted in disbelief. "Is it really you?"

"Of course it's me, you idiot. Who else would it be?" Shingo snapped.

"Damn, it's good to see you!" Unable to help himself, Keisuke threw his arms around Shingo and hugged him. He felt resistance at first, but it seemed his old friend was happy to see him too, because after a moment, he relaxed.

"It's good to see you, too. What the hell happened to you anyway? I mean, one day you're at school, and the next you're gone! No one would tell me where you went!"

Keisuke scratched his head. "They finally put my old man away. Child services took me; I had no choice."

Shingo frowned. "Sounds bad."

"It was ok. I stayed in the home a month, and then I got adopted."

"No shit! By who?"

Keisuke grinned. "You're not gonna believe it." He jerked a finger towards the RedSuns encampment. "Takahashi Ryousuke's my brother."

Shingo gawked at him. "That pompous pissant is your brother?"

Keisuke frowned and shoved him just hard enough to let him know he meant it. "Don't talk about him like that. You don't even know him."

Shingo rolled his eyes. "If you say so. Anyway, what you been up to?"

"The usual stuff. I just got my permit, so I'm finally an official member of the Redsuns. I was kind of an unofficial member, because of my brother, but I finally got the sticker and everything." He beamed. "Oh, and I just found out I'm going to college in the fall!"

Shingo looked suitably impressed. "Nice."

"What about you?"

Shingo shrugged. "I just got my permit too, and I bought a car. I'm not on a team yet or anything, but I'm working on it. I got a lot of ideas."

"Cool," Keisuke said. "You working now?"

"Yeah, I was working part time at a garage, but I've gone full time since graduation. I like it, and it pays pretty well. How about you? You working?"

"I thought about it, but we get whatever we need from my dad, so I guess it's not like I need a job."

Shingo quirked an eyebrow. "That's convenient."

Keisuke shrugged. "I'm supposed to concentrate on school, so I can help Ryousuke with the family business one day."

"Help him how?"

"Well, my dad says that when he's gone, it's up to us to take care of everything. He's shown Ryousuke what to do, but Ryousuke can't do everything by himself, which is why he needs me to back him up. It's like accounts, and real estate, stuff like that."

Shingo snorted. "Bo-oring."

Keisuke put his hands on his hips in mock exasperation. "Like you lead such an exciting life."

"I do," Shingo said with a lopsided smirk. "It's a laugh a minute, with the clowns around."

Keisuke winced internally at the mention of "the clowns". He'd forgotten all about them. "Oh yeah, how's your mom?"

"Ok, I guess. She's with this guy Akihiko, now. He's a real asshole, as usual. She wants me to move out, but I've only been working full time for like…" he thought about it for a second, "a month, so I don't have the cash yet. I told her yesterday, don't worry, once I've got the money I'm fucking gone."

Keisuke eyed the beat up old fourth generation Civic parked a few meters away and felt slightly guilty. Did he really race in that thing? It didn't even look like he could buy groceries in it.

Shingo followed his gaze and grinned. "Yeah, I know, it's not much to look at. But I don't need some fancy car to learn to drive. Hell, I crashed into some bushes last week. Can you imagine doing that in a brand new car? I'd be too damn scared to try anything!"

Keisuke was driving a brand new car, and he knew it. Then again, with first class instruction from Ryousuke, he didn't make many mistakes. "Er…yeah."

Shingo gave him a suspicious sniff. "What are you driving?"

Keisuke colored. "An FD," he mumbled.

Shingo's mouth fell open. "Holy shit! Can I drive it?"

"Hell no, you can't drive it!"

"Why not?" Shingo demanded.

"Because you'd probably run it into a bush, that's why!"

Shingo gave him a shove that almost knocked him off his feet. "Fuck you, asshole!"

Keisuke pushed him back, and before they knew it they were on the ground wrestling, just like they had done when they were boys. Keisuke had always lost their wrestling matches, having always been the skinny, lanky one. Shingo had been stockier, and heavier, on top of which he'd always been the more aggressive of the two. This time, however, Keisuke immediately recognized how his superior height leant him an advantage. His longer limbs gave him better leverage, and he was able to pin Shingo with relative ease.

"Hah!" he laughed, surprised and delighted. "I win!"

"Get off me!" Shingo growled. "How much do you fucking weigh?"

Keisuke snorted. "More than you, apparently."

Shingo glared up at him, and they were so close together that he was reminded of another time, long ago, when they had practiced an altogether different activity together. Keisuke couldn't remember exactly what had transpired to bring up the conversation, but the conclusion had been that they should practice kissing so that they would be ready to kiss girls at the school's end of the year social. Without thinking, he closed the scant gap between them and suddenly they were kissing, and it felt a hell of a lot better than it had back then. Shingo tasted sweet. An image flickered across his mind's eye, his best friend and him splitting a can of Coke, and he suddenly knew what that taste was.

"Keisuke!" he heard Ryousuke call from across the gallery.

He pulled away abruptly. Scrambling to his feet, he jumped out of the bushes and waved as his brother. "I'm here, Aniki!" he yelled. "Meet me afterwards, at the Family's at the bottom," he hissed over his shoulder. Then he strode quickly back to where Ryousuke was waiting.

"What on earth were you doing over there?" Ryousuke asked, giving him a critical look.

Keisuke flushed. "Ah, I had to um, relieve myself."

Ryousuke reached up and pulled a leaf from his hair. He stared at it a moment before tossing it on the ground. "Now?" he asked reproachfully.

"It's not like I planned it!" Keisuke snapped. "So anyway, what's going on?"

"What do you mean, what's going on? The race is about to start!" Ryousuke pressed a walkie-talkie into his hand. "You're doing the count. Let's go!"

Keisuke clapped his brother on the back. "You're gonna kick his ass."

Ryousuke smirked. "I know." He got into his FC and slammed the door. The FC's Wankel twin turbo roared to life, the headlamps popping up a second later.

Keisuke walked to the middle of the road, where he waited while the two competitors aligned themselves for the race. This wasn't his first glimpse of Nakazato Takeshi, but it was the first time he'd seen him in his new R32. The Silvia driver's sudden and unexpected switch to grip-style driving had surprised everyone. It was actually what had prompted his brother to grant this race. Ryousuke didn't usually accept challenges from untested teams, because it wasn't worth his while to race unworthy opponents. But Nakazato Takeshi behind the wheel of an R32, this he had to see for himself.

Keisuke glanced at Nakazato. The guy looked determined, that was for sure. Nakazato nodded to indicate his readiness. He looked at his brother, and received a straight, unembellished nod. He could see that Ryousuke was in full racing mode, and nothing would break his concentration.

"Ready? Three….Two….One…..GO!" he shouted, dropping his arm sharply. Both cars peeled past him with an earsplitting roar and a whoosh of exhaust. The crowd erupted, and the race was on!


	2. Chapter 2

Ryousuke had to give Nakazato props. Having only recently switched to a completely different style of racing, the GTR driver hadn't done too badly at all. Not that he'd been any sort of challenge for Ryousuke, but he had potential, so perhaps some day.

"That was a respectable showing," Ryousuke said as Nakazato approached him. The congratulatory crowd around them backed off to give them some room.

The GTR driver grinned. "That's high praise, coming from you."

Ryousuke canted his head slightly to acknowledge the compliment. "Your team has a good start. You'll get a lot of challenges soon, I suspect. I hope you've got some talent recruited."

Nakazato gestured at the drivers clustered around him. "It's taken care of." The Nightkids cheered, and the crowd took their cue. Pretty soon, both drivers were overrun and Ryousuke was forced to return to the Redsuns area to escape the overzealous crowd.

"Masahiro's!" he called over the generalized hubbub. Masahiro had taken to throwing get-togethers at his place after meets. Ryousuke approved, as it tended to build camaraderie and form a more cohesive team identity. Several teammates stopped to offer him congratulatory words on their way to their vehicles, and he accepted it all with a smile. His father would say that doing something well was reward in itself, but he couldn't help reveling in the adulation…just a little bit, anyway.

Keisuke appeared out of the thinning crowd and gave him a million watt grin. "You smoked him!"

Ryousuke chuckled. As old as he was, he'd never quite gotten over the need to impress Keisuke. Even now, his brother's esteem meant more to him than anyone's save his father's. "Come on, let's get there before all the food and drink is gone!"

Keisuke put a hand on his elbow to stop him from getting into his car. "Ah, listen, Aniki, I can't make it to the party. I promised to meet someone afterwards, so I'm gonna have to pass."

Ryousuke was surprised, and he imagined he looked it. "Really?" he blurted. "Who?"

Keisuke waved airily. "Just an old friend."

"Oh, a 'friend', right," Ryousuke said, rolling his eyes. "I believe that."

Keisuke held his hands up in protest. "Hey, I'm serious. You're the one who's going to have to beat them off with a stick tonight. Me, I'm just the lowly sidekick. Batman gets the chicks; Robin gets to wash the batmobile."

Ryousuke snorted. "Keisuke, if you want to wash the FC, then you're welcome to it, but the day you're my sidekick is the day pigs fly!"

Keisuke laughed. "Have fun at the party. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Have you discovered what that might be yet?"

Keisuke hopped into his car. "No, but if you find out, let me know!"

With a loud squeal of tires, he peeled out of the gallery and disappeared around the bend. Ryousuke sighed and got into his own car for the long ride to the bottom.


	3. Chapter 3

Keisuke sipped his Coke and crammed another French fry into his mouth. Shingo sat across from him, practically vibrating with excitement. His friend's eyes were bright, and his fingers tapped ceaselessly on the formica tabletop.

"And did you see the way he practically grazed the rail coming around that last hairpin? Fuckin'hell!" he said, slapping the table.

Keisuke smirked. "No one drives like my aniki."

"Well, if you've got that guy teaching you to drive, then I guess you're set." He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and tapped one out. Keisuke watched with rapt attention as he lit one up. "Of course, you gotta admit, Nakazato pulled some nice moves too. People say that he might not be as good with the GTR, but I think after tonight, they're not gonna be saying that anymore."

Keisuke nodded. "He wasn't half bad. And the Nightkids, they'll be ranked pretty high now."

"Yeah, I know! Shit, I can't wait till I get on the team."

Keisuke looked dubious. "You really think you can do it?"

Shingo waved his hand dismissively. "I know I can."

Keisuke eyed the cigarette in his hand. "Hey…gimme one…" he said, reaching for the pack.

"Sure," Shingo said, and slid the lighter across to him.

Keisuke put the cigarette in his mouth and clicked at the lighter a few times before it sustained a flame. He lit it awkwardly and then, with as much aplomb as he could muster, sucked in a large lungful of smoke. Immediately, the intense burning made him cough it back out in an incredibly un-cool fashion.

"Nice," Shingo said, smothering a snicker with his hand.

Keisuke drank down a few gulps of soda and wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "Thanks," he wheezed.

"You can't just breathe it in like that," Shingo advised. "You gotta pull some into your mouth, and then inhale it. That way, it won't burn."

Keisuke watched him demonstrate, and then tried it again. This time, though he coughed a little, he could feel a definite difference.

"There you go," Shingo said.

Keisuke grinned, feeling rather suave. "Where'd you learn all this stuff, anyway?"

"Seita two months," Shingo replied.

"Aah." Keisuke was slightly disappointed to think that while his life was completely different, very little had changed for his friend. When they were schoolboys, Shingo used to refer to his mother's ex-boyfriends by their first name followed by the amount of time that they had dated his mother. It was a labeling system designed to mock them, and perhaps to minimize the perceived impact that they had on his life. But it was clear now to Keisuke that these men, brief as their chapters had been, now formed the book on which his life was based. Keisuke's father had turned into an abusive drunk after his mother died, but even his behavior was nothing compared to that of degenerate bastards like Masaru four months. At the age of 10, the images of the marks that man had left on his friend had been seared indelibly into his memory. He felt uncomfortable thinking about it, even now.

"What?" Shingo asked, stealing one of his fries.

Keisuke blinked as the past melted away. "What?"

"You look kinda sick. Take it easy with that," Shingo said, indicating Keisuke's cigarette.

Keisuke gave him a wan smile.

"Hey, so you ever find out what happened to your dad? I mean, is he still in jail or what?"

Keisuke cocked his head, surprised at the question. "I don't know, actually. I mean, I think about him sometimes, but not very often. I usually forget about it right away. I mean, who gives a shit what that asshole's doing now?"

Shingo shrugged. "I dunno, I guess if it was my dad, I would want to know. I mean, it's kinda weird, you not knowing or caring what happened to him. Isn't it?"

"Why? He didn't care what happened to me! I don't see him looking me up!"

"Yeah well, maybe he tried but they wouldn't tell him where you were."

"Why wouldn't they tell him?" Keisuke demanded.

Shingo threw his hands up theatrically. "I don't fucking know! It was just a theory!"

Keisuke frowned. "Anyway, even if I wanted to know, I don't think I should go digging all that up. I mean, the Takahashis are my parents now. Why would I be so ungrateful as to go and ask about my stupid father?"

"Why would asking about your father be ungrateful to them? It's got nothing to do with them. It's not like you don't appreciate what they've done, or you love them less or something, just because you want to know what happened to him."

Keisuke sighed. "I guess so. Anyway, it's not like I care that much. He can pretty much rot, as far as I'm concerned."

Shingo shrugged. "Fair enough."

Keisuke ground out the remainder of his cigarette, which he'd mostly been holding anyway. By silent consensus, neither had mentioned their romp in the bushes earlier in the night. Had it just been a relapse, like falling back into an old habit, or had it actually meant something? It wasn't something he wanted to think about, and he very much doubted that Shingo would be amenable to discussing it. Perhaps if he just thought of it as an act of reminiscence, like the playful wrestling, then he could forget about it.

Shingo glanced at his watch. "Shit, is it really that late?"

Keisuke checked the time. "What?"

"I gotta go. I'm working tomorrow," he said, signaling the waitress for their bill.

"But…tomorrow's Sunday," Keisuke said. What kind of garage was open on Sunday?

"Yeah, I know. I took up some part time work at a take out place. I figured I could use the money, you know? The sooner I move out, the better!"

Keisuke nodded. "Well, let me get your number at least," he said. They traded mobile numbers.

Shingo threw a couple crumpled bills on the table, and Keisuke followed suit. They walked out into the slightly humid night. Overhead, insects tapped against the fluorescent lights, an esoteric rhythm to the background hum of the lights themselves.

"It was great seeing you again," Keisuke said. He felt a little awkward doing it, but he didn't want to leave without some kind of gesture. Reaching over, he gave Shingo a quick hug, and then backed off before it got awkward.

"Yeah," Shingo agreed. "Call me, if you want." Without further ado, he got into his vehicle and drove off into the night. Keisuke smirked. Whatever that Civic had looked like, it hadn't sounded stock.

"Crashed into a bush my ass," he muttered under his breath as he got into his own car and headed for home.


	4. Chapter 4

Ryousuke didn't comment as Keisuke came in the door. It was well after two in the morning.

"Were you waiting up for me?" Keisuke asked suspiciously.

"No," Ryousuke replied. "I just got home from Masahiro's a short while ago. I think my ears are still ringing."

Keisuke chuckled. "That's how you know it was a good party. Was it fun?" he asked, moving into the kitchen. Ryousuke heard the refrigerator door open and close with a bang.

"I had a good time. How was your evening?" Ryousuke asked, raising his voice to be heard in the kitchen.

"It was fine," Keisuke said as he returned to the living room. "Well, I'm going to bed. Good night." With that, he disappeared into the hallway. Ryousuke heard his bedroom door slam a moment later.

Ryousuke sighed and eased himself off the couch. He turned off all the lights and headed for his own bedroom. As he passed Keisuke's room, he noted that the lights were off, and that no sounds emanated from behind the closed door. Once in his own room, he shut the door and laid down on the bed.

He burned with curiosity. Keisuke had a fairly active social life, and was used to coming and going whenever he pleased. Ryousuke never questioned him about where he went or what he did, but then, he'd never had to; Keisuke wasn't exactly clandestine about his activities. So why the sudden secrecy? The only conclusion that he could come to was that Keisuke had to be seeing someone. But who?


	5. Chapter 5

Keisuke raised his beer in a celebratory toast. "May this flat get good tv reception, and no cockroach infestations!"

Shingo snorted, but he drank to it anyway.

Keisuke flopped down on the sofa, worn so badly in some places that he could see the dingy gray stuffing underneath. "Where'd you get this furniture, anyway?" he asked as he poked his finger into a cigarette burn on the cushion.

"It came with the flat," Shingo said, also peering at the sofa.

"Did all this stuff come with?" Keisuke asked, getting up to examine the furnishings. He noted a stained coffee table and a small television cart with accompanying small television. The tiny bedroom just about fit a single bed and a battered wardrobe, and a quick perusal of the kitchen revealed a couple dented pots and a few chipped plates.

"Pretty much," Shingo replied. "You think I'd pay money for this shit?"

Keisuke shrugged. "I wouldn't."

Shingo took a large swig of his beer and turned on the television with the remote. Keisuke joined him on the couch as he flipped through the four channels or so that the tv's circular antenna offered.

"Wow. Think you'll get cable?"

Shingo shook his head. "Nah, but I might buy a DVD player, in a month or so."

Keisuke nodded and the two of them zoned for awhile on recycled sports news.

After his fourth beer, Keisuke had finally watched as much fuzzy news as he could stand. He felt strangely comfortable, though, and didn't really want to get up or go anywhere else.

"Lemme see what else is on," he said, making a grab for the remote.

Shingo moved it out of reach. "I'm watching this."

Keisuke grunted in disbelief. Shingo's eyes had the glazed look of someone who was either bored, drunk, or both. "You are not!"

"I am!" he insisted.

"Give it!"

He held it away, forcing Keisuke to reach across him for it. "No way!"

As Keisuke came into physical contact with him, he suddenly had a better activity in mind than fighting over the remote. Instead of diving for it again, he just leaned in and stuck his tongue in his friend's mouth. As he'd expected, Shingo was instantly into it. He heard the remote hit the threadbare carpet with a plasticky thud. Keisuke hadn't previously done much kissing, so it was still something of a novel activity for him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on trying to find the best, most pleasurable way to go about it. He felt warm, and soft, as if he was wrapped in a big, fluffy comforter. Everything else ceased to exist, the sound of the television, the shabby flat. Even time seemed to stand still. Eventually, warm and soft evolved, and he started to feel uncomfortably hot and sweaty. Disengaging, he sat up and was relieved to feel a rush of air cool the sweat on his face. Thirsty, he grabbed his beer off the table and drank the remainder down in one gulp.

"Yeech!" he said, making a face. It had gone tepid, and he wondered how long they'd been making out.

Shingo got up, and returned a moment later with two fresh bottles. He sat back down, drank some more beer, and changed the channel. After a little while, when Keisuke felt cooler and rehydrated, they resumed.

Hours later, they'd worked themselves into a tangled, yet comfortable position on the couch. Shingo lay on his back, propped up slightly by the armrest, while Keisuke lay on his side, his head on Shingo's chest and the rest of his body fitted between the Civic driver's legs. They'd long since tired of kissing, but it didn't seem they'd ever tire of cuddling.

"What're you thinking about?" Keisuke asked, breaking the hours-long silence.

"Thinking maybe I should get cable," Shingo replied. "This is the third time I've seen this newscast."

"Hm. I can't believe you're actually watching it."

"I guess I'm not." Shingo handed him the remote and continued what he'd actually been doing, which was making a total mess of Keisuke's once carefully spiked hair with his fingers.

Keisuke flipped through the channels until he landed on the shopping network.

"Look at that blender," he said after a few minutes. "You could do so much stuff with it."

Shingo snorted. "It's a blender. It only does one thing: blend shit."

"Yeah, but you can do it on like eight speeds," Keisuke said.

"Buy it, then."

"You buy it."

"No."

Keisuke idly drew circles on Shingo's chest with his finger. It apparently tickled somewhat, because every once in awhile, he felt his friend shiver beneath him. "Oh, guess what?"

"What?"

"I've been looking for my father. I got to thinking after we talked about it, and I figured it wouldn't hurt to see what he was doing."

"Did you find him?"

"Nah, not yet. I don't really know where to look."

"You should hire a private investigator. That's what they always do on tv."

"Hmm," Keisuke said. "I'll think about it."

"Does your family know you're looking?"

"No. I know it shouldn't matter, but I didn't want to tell them until I'd found something. I mean, what if I never find him? There wouldn't be much point in saying anything then, would there?"

"I guess not," Shingo agreed.

They fell silent again as Keisuke found something else to occupy his attention, namely Shingo's left hand. He examined it closely, running a finger lightly over the fine hairs on the back. It was smaller than his, with shorter fingers and chewed short fingernails. The palm was rough, calloused, and sported deep lines. It looked sturdy and capable – a hand made to fit tools. In contrast, his hands were soft, with long, tapered fingers and well kept nails. He was proud of the slowly developing callous on his palm though, from his long hours behind the wheel. Eventually, he hoped not to have such girly hands.

"Naa, Shingo," he said.

"Mm?"

"This is nice."

"Hm," Shingo grunted.

Keisuke had hoped he would say something more, but he didn't. After awhile, they both just drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Ryousuke set down his cup of coffee as Keisuke tried unsuccessfully to sneak into the house unnoticed.

"Good morning," he said.

Keisuke jumped, his face turning bright red. "Morning, Aniki."

Ryousuke tried not to smile at his brother's discomfiture, but it was difficult not to under the circumstances. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked, indicating the scones on the table. "There's plenty."

Keisuke hesitated, obviously torn between hunger and embarrassment. As usual, his stomach won. Seating himself at the table, he helped himself to several of the pastries.

"How was your…evening?" Ryousuke asked. He stifled a snicker, but upon noticing that Keisuke had seen him do it, he finally just let himself laugh. Keisuke flushed, and gave him a glare that just made Ryousuke laugh even harder.

"It's not funny," Keisuke said, his expression verging on a pout.

Ryousuke had to pinch himself to keep from laughing at that, as well. Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, he schooled his face into some semblance of contrition. "No, it's not; I'm sorry."

"You should be!" Keisuke said. "Anyway, it wasn't like that. I was just at a friend's, that's all. It got late, so I spent the night."

"Speaking of friends, Shigeru, Ling, and Yuuki all called yesterday. They claim you turned off your mobile."

Keisuke winced. "Oh yeah, I forgot I did that. I hope they didn't bother you too much."

Ryousuke sighed. "Well, I just stopped answering the phone after awhile. You should check the machine; there might be more messages."

"Oh…ok," Keisuke mumbled around a mouthful of scone.

Ryousuke debated whether or not he should say something. He didn't want to stick his nose where it didn't belong, but the temptation was so strong. Finally, he decided that maybe Keisuke would want to hear what he had to say. "You know, it's natural to get caught up in a new relationship and forget about your friends," Ryousuke said. "But if you just tell them the truth, I'm sure they'll understand."

Keisuke frowned. "I told you; it's not like that. We're just friends."

"I hate to break it to you, little brother, but friends don't usually give each other hickeys."

Keisuke's eyes rounded in horror. He bolted up from his chair and disappeared down the hallway. Ryousuke heard the bathroom light click on. He shook his head and continued to eat his breakfast. A short while later, Keisuke returned, looking rather abject.

"Can I ask who she is?"

Impossibly, Keisuke's expression got even more miserable. "*He* is an old friend, from before."

A piece of unchewed scone fell out of Ryousuke's mouth and hit his plate, unnoticed. He stared at his brother for countless seconds, his mind struggling to wrap itself around that revelation.

"What do you think this means?" Keisuke asked, his eyes clouded with uncertainty.

Ryousuke swallowed. "I um…I don't know." Keisuke's anxiety heightened visibly, so he quickly added, "But I don't think it's anything to worry about. I mean…whatever happens, it'll be okay."

Keisuke seemed relieved to hear that. Seeing that, Ryousuke let out the breath he was holding. "Is it serious?"

Keisuke grimaced. "Not really. We've been making out and stuff for awhile now, and he hasn't said anything about it. We just hang out and kiss, mostly. It's like we're friends…plus."

Ryousuke realized he was gripping his butterknife very tightly, so he carefully set it on the table. "If it's really been going on that long, then don't you think it's about time you talked about it?"

Keisuke squinted at him. "I don't know. I don't think he wants to. I tried kind of hinting at it, but he always just avoids it. I don't want to make him mad. Even if we don't keep doing it, I don't want to lose him as a friend. He's like, the only person who knows me from before. Sometimes I feel like I have to hide where I'm really from, because people would treat me different, if they knew. Shingo and I grew up together. We lived in the same complex, and went to the same school. I feel like he knows me, and I don't have to hide anything from him."

Ryousuke tried to tell himself that this wasn't about him, but he couldn't help but feel hurt. He'd thought that they were close, that they knew each other better than anyone else. He didn't want to believe that all this time, Keisuke was keeping a part of himself hidden, because he was afraid that Ryousuke was judgmental and shallow just because he happened to grow up affluent. "Well, whatever you want, then," he said curtly. He got up and cleared away his dishes.

Keisuke followed him into the kitchen. "But…what do you think I should do?"

"How should I know?" Ryousuke said testily. "If he knows you so well, then why don't you ask him?" He stalked past Keisuke and out of the kitchen, swiping his car keys off the table on the way. "I'm going out. I'll see you later."

Then he was out the door, and blissfully away.


	7. Chapter 7

Keisuke stood at the lake shore, the bright summer sun warming his skin. It was a beautiful day for a picnic, and he was feeling rather exuberant.

"Want to go for a swim?" Shingo asked, eyeing the water. It had been a pleasant drive up the mountain, but it had gotten hot towards the end, after they'd been in the car for some time.

Keisuke startled. "Seriously?" he asked. He'd worn swimming shorts under his clothing, but he hadn't really expected to get in the water. As he recalled, Shingo hated swimming, and had done so for as long as he could remember. Of course, he'd found out later that it wasn't so much the swimming as it was that his friend felt self conscious about taking off his shirt. But, many years had passed since then; perhaps he was over it.

Shingo shrugged. "Yeah."

Keisuke grinned. "All right."

To his surprise, Shingo stripped off his clothes and dove in first. Keisuke followed, leaving his shirt and shorts behind. The water was cool, refreshing, the perfect temperature for a hot day. He ducked under, and just as he came up, a flash of red caught his eye.

"What's that?" he asked, grabbing Shingo by the arm and turning him around. He stared at the large red snake on his friend's shoulder, fangs bared in an angry hiss.

"Oh, yeah," the Civic driver mumbled. "I got it awhile ago."

The snake wrapped itself around his upper arm, stopping just short of where a t-shirt would normally cover it.

"It looks good. You can't even see the burns."

"That's kind of the point," Shingo replied.

Keisuke ran his hand over the tattoo. He could still feel the raised scar tissue, and still see it if he looked closely enough. But the snake's scales did an excellent job of camouflaging the bumpy scar. He remembered clearly how painful the purposely inflicted iron burn had been, and how sensitive his friend had later become about how it looked. On impulse, he grabbed Shingo and kissed him.

The Civic driver pulled away from him. "We're in public."

"It's a Monday afternoon. No one's here but us!"

Shingo glanced around. It was true. There were some children and their carers way on the other side of the lake, but they were the only ones in the vicinity. He relented, and Keisuke took full advantage of it.

Awhile later, they'd tired of the water and were lying on the shore. The sun had dried them, and Keisuke was feeling languorous. He turned over and they resumed kissing once more. This time, however, they progressed somewhat beyond their usual comfort zone. There was an intensity, and a sense of urgency, perhaps brought about by the fact that they were already mostly naked.

"We can…if you want," Shingo said after Keisuke had been rather shamelessly rubbing against him for a few minutes.

Keisuke flushed, but it wasn't from embarrassment. "Are you sure?"

Shingo shrugged. "Yeah."


	8. Chapter 8

Shingo squared himself up with the ball, sighted down the fairway, and promptly sliced his ball into the dense forest.

"Nice shot," Keisuke commented.

"Shut up."

Keisuke set up his ball and tee, and managed to drive his ball a good distance down the fairway. They returned to the cart, Akagi Golf Club emblazoned in green on its side panel.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here," Keisuke said as Shingo maneuvered the cart around the course. "You're really hating this, aren't you?"

Shingo raised an eyebrow at him. "No," he said carefully. "Why would you think that?"

"Well…"

Shingo rolled his eyes. "You can say it – I suck. It's a nice day though. And I get to drive the cart."

Keisuke laughed. "I'm glad you like it."

Shingo shrugged. "I wouldn't go that far, but it's ok, as long as I don't have to find my ball."

"I didn't make you find it the last six times, did I?"

Shingo's lips quirked up slightly. It was an expression that Keisuke had come to deem his not-quite smile.

"I guess not."

Keisuke chuckled. "Ryousuke would be really annoyed if he was here. He doesn't think there's a point in playing if you don't keep score."

"Why isn't he? Don't you usually do this with him?"

Keisuke sighed. "He's not really talking to me right now. I mean, he is, but he isn't. It's not like he's ignoring me or anything that obvious, but he's been acting upset since I told him about us."

Shingo gave him a sharp look. "Us?

Keisuke blinked. "Well…I mean, I told him that we were friends, from before."

Shingo seemed to relax. "Ah. Maybe he just doesn't like you hanging out with the wrong sort."

"Since when were you the wrong sort?"

"Since always."

Keisuke gave him a dubious sniff. "You're not as bad as you think you are."

Shingo shook his head. "What a shit thing to say. I would never say that to you."

Keisuke feigned remorse. "My mistake; I meant to say that you're a…bad egg!" He was treated to a withering glance before Shingo stopped the cart and they both hopped out to grab their clubs.

"Now that's just wrong."

Keisuke laughed. "I just have a hard time believing that Ryousuke thinks of you that way. I know he seems kind of uptight and judgmental, but he's not really. I never got the feeling he thought any less of me because of where I came from. So really, I just don't see him getting upset over you just because we knew each other back then."

Shingo glared at the fairway as if he could scare it into submission, bent his knees, relaxed his shoulders, and missed the ball completely. He swung again, and this time managed to drive the ball a decent distance with a more or less straight trajectory.

"Check that shit out!"

Keisuke chuckled. "Good one."

As they loaded the cart back up, Shingo commented, "You know, maybe you shoulda played with Ryousuke today. I mean, you've been over to my place practically every day for two weeks. Maybe he's upset because you're not hangin' out with him as much as you used to."

Keisuke scratched his head and frowned. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. We don't have to spend every minute together, you know."

"What, are you getting sick of me or something?" Keisuke asked, nebulous insecurities suddenly gathering in his mind like thunderclouds on the horizon.

"Well, no, it's just…" Shingo looked at the ground and trailed off.

"You trying to get rid of me?" Keisuke asked sharply.

"Of course not!"

"Then what's your problem? And why don't you ever want to talk about us? I'm not trying to sound like a girl, but we gotta talk about it some time!"

Shingo squinted up at him in the bright morning sun. "Come on, Keisuke, what is there to talk about?"

"What?"

Shingo hesitated, and then seemed to come to a decision. "We both know that this isn't going anywhere. Hell, I didn't even expect it'd last this long. I figured we'd see each other a couple times, then the novelty would wear off, and you'd forget about it."

"How can you think I'd just forget about you? That's total bullshit and you know it!"

Shingo gave him a rather puzzled look. "It's not bullshit; it's the truth. I didn't think you'd take this so seriously. I guess I didn't realize you'd never…" he trailed off with a sheepish squint.

Keisuke pulled back. "What, and you have?"

Shingo gave him one of his typical one shoulder shrugs. "Well…sure, yeah."

"With who?" he snapped.

"Does it matter?"

Keisuke glared at him. "It matters to me! I should have known this would happen with you."

Shingo stuck his hands on his hips. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" A cautionary look warned Keisuke he was on thin ice, but he was too hurt and angry to heed it.

"It means that next month, I'll just be Keisuke three months to you, won't I?" he growled.

Instantly, he saw how deep his words had cut. Shingo's expression slid through an impressive spectrum from stunned to wounded to unholy pissed off. "Fuck you, I don't need this!" He turned to storm off but Keisuke caught him by the arm.

"Where are you going?" Keisuke demanded.

"Let go of me!" Shingo snarled, trying to pull away from him.

But the harder Shingo struggled, the more important it seemed to keep him from leaving.

"Let go!"

Shingo shoved him and without thinking, Keisuke struck back. He managed a glancing blow to Shingo's left temple. A look of murderous rage crossed the Civic driver's face. Keisuke only had a fraction of a second to regret what he'd done before Shingo punched him square in the face. He went down, and the pain was indescribable. He realized suddenly that it had been a very long time indeed since he'd actually physically brawled with someone. He remembered taking a lot of beatings as a child, either from his drunken father or the school bullies, but he didn't remember anything ever hurting this much. He pulled his hand away from his face and groaned as he saw bright red.

Shingo stared at him, stunned speechless it seemed. He didn't apologize, or even offer to help. He just stood there!

"What the hell?" Keisuke demanded, one hand clamped over his bleeding nose.

Instead of answering him, Shingo turned and stalked off across the green. Keisuke wanted to go after him, but he was actually slightly afraid to. He sat there long after he'd lost sight of Shingo. Torrents of emotions surged through him and he could feel himself trembling as he struggled to keep them in check. After awhile, when he'd managed to pull himself together, he loaded the clubs back into the cart and headed back to the clubhouse.


	9. Chapter 9

Ryousuke picked at the remains of his lunch, his appetite gone. He'd been hungry, but now his mouth was dry and all that remained of his meal was a faintly sour taste. Keisuke had rung half an hour ago to say that he and his boyfriend had broken up, and he was on his way home. Guilt tore through him as he remembered the excitement that had thrilled through him at the news. What kind of selfish, maniacally jealous person was he?

He sighed. He'd been acting like an incorrigible jerk for weeks now, feeling wounded by what he'd finally had to admit was a completely imagined slight. He was no kind of brother at all.

He jumped out of his chair when he heard the garage door opening. He hurried to meet Keisuke at the door. Perhaps he hadn't been very supportive up till now, but he was damn well going to be as sympathetic as he could be.

The door opened, and Keisuke stalked into the house. Ryousuke gasped.

"Oh my god, what happened to your face?" he blurted.

A large bruise was forming around Keisuke's left eye, and there was dried blood which had clearly come from his nose.

"We had a fight. He punched me," Keisuke explained.

Ryousuke's fists clenched involuntarily. "He WHAT?" he yelled. "That bastard! Where is he?"

Keisuke held his hand up to forestall him. "Aniki, please, just leave it, ok?"

"Well you can't just let him get away with this! He has to know that he can't treat you this way!" Ryousuke insisted.

Keisuke sighed. "It wasn't totally his fault. I said some things."

Ryousuke pulled a face. "That's no-"

"About his mother," Keisuke clarified.

Ryousuke frowned. "Oh. Still…"

"And I hit him first," Keisuke finally admitted. "Look, Aniki, it's over, ok? He's gone, and I just want to lie down," he said as he wearily made his way to his bedroom.

Ryousuke trailed after him feeling anxious and helpless. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah, just…leave me alone for awhile, ok?"


	10. Chapter 10

Keisuke sat staring at the brown envelope on the desk in front of him. It was addressed to him, and had come from the private investigator he'd hired to track his father down. The man, it seemed, was a pro. He hadn't realized he'd get results so quickly, and wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with what was inside that innocuous looking envelope.

The phone rang…and rang…and rang. Eventually, the answering machine kicked in with a series of high pitched electronic beeps. No message…it was just like him, Keisuke thought.

"Shingo, it's me, Keisuke. I know you don't want to talk to me, but…there's something I need from you. You said once that you'd do anything for me. I don't know if that's still true or not, but, well, it's about my father. Can you call me, when you get this-"

A loud click interrupted him.

"Hello? Shingo?"

"Yeah," came the solemn reply.

"You were there the whole time?"

There was a pause, and then, "What do you want, Keisuke?"

He sighed. "I hired an investigator to find my father, like you suggested. I got the results back today. He's dead, Shingo. The bastard's dead, and I never even got to…to say…"

"Shit. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Anyway, I was wondering, can you come with me, to the grave? You're the only other person I know who knew him. I feel like you should be there."

There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, ""When do you want to go?"


	11. Chapter 11

The three of them stood next to the tiny stone monument marking the Kobayashi family grave.

Keisuke stared blankly at it. "I don't know what I'm supposed to feel," he said at last.

"I don't think you're 'supposed' to feel anything," Ryousuke said.

Keisuke shook his head. "How could he be dead? How could he just die without…" He frowned. "One day he was there, and the next he was gone. And now, he's gone forever, and the fucking bastard didn't even say goodbye!"

"Maybe it's better this way," Shingo offered.

"How the hell is it better this way?" Keisuke snapped.

"No, he's right," Ryousuke said, agreeing with Shingo. He hadn't really wanted to, but there were more important things at stake than his resentment. "He could have looked you up just because he wanted to make trouble. He could've tried to take you away or extort money from you. Maybe it's better that he just went away. At least he can't do anything more to you now."

Keisuke glared at the monument. "He didn't have to want me back! A simple I'm sorry, or even just have a nice life would have been enough. Just…something."

"I think you're lucky he didn't come say something you didn't want to hear," Shingo said.

"It's true, Keisuke. Whether you want to believe it or not, he could have really put a wrench in your adoption. Just think where you might be now," Ryousuke said.

Keisuke sighed. "I guess so." He hadn't wanted to live with his father again, that much was certain. He would have liked some kind of contact or acknowledgement from the man, but nothing was probably better than being taken away from the Takahashi's. "You're right; it's stupid to think I would have gotten anything good out of him."

"The only thing you did miss out on was the chance to give him a big fat punch in the face," Shingo growled.

Keisuke snorted. "Yeah, that would have been nice."

Ryousuke raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"Anyway, I have to take off. You gonna be all right?" Shingo asked.

Keisuke nodded.

"Ok." Shingo paused awkwardly, and then turned to go.

"Wait," Keisuke said.

Shingo glanced at Keisuke, and then looked away. "What?" he mumbled.

"I'm sorry…about what I said."

Shingo shuffled his feet and shrugged. "It's ok. It was a long time coming."

Keisuke frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shingo sighed. "Nothing. Sorry I hit you."

Keisuke shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight. "Was it true…what you said? Did you really think it wasn't going anywhere?"

Shingo squinted at him. "Well, yeah. Maybe if you hadn't left, things might be different. But you did."

"Why does it matter?"

Shingo shook his head. "I'll see you around, Takahashi," he said at last, and then took off before Keisuke could say anything more to him.

"Are you all right?" Ryousuke asked after he'd gone.

Keisuke sighed. "I will be."

Ryousuke nodded. "Why did you ask him to come?"

"It's easy for me to forget what my father was really like, because of how great everything has been for me. Shingo remembers it how it was. I think that's why I needed him here today, even though I knew this would happen."

"Did it help?"

Keisuke shrugged. "A little, I guess. I still wish I could have seen him one more time before he died. I just feel so…incomplete."

"Well, you can talk to him now, if you want," Ryousuke said.

Keisuke eyed the grave. He hesitated, but Ryousuke urged him on. Finally, he began to speak, haltingly first, but gaining momentum.

"I used to love you, you know. I remember you and mom used to take me to the park, and we would have picnics in the grass. I remember swings, and slides, gravel in my shoes. And then mom died, and suddenly everything changed. I know you missed her, but I did too! I needed you, but you just ran away and crawled into a bottle. I hated you for that, for a long time. But…I guess I should thank you for getting me thrown in the home, because if you hadn't, then I would never have met the Takahashi's. I owe everything to them, and it's because of them that I can forgive you now." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm done. Let's go." He turned on his heel and began striding back to the car. Ryousuke had to hurry to catch up with him.

There was a grim finality in the air as he pulled out of the graveyard's parking lot, as if he was not only leaving the area, but leaving the past behind as well. In fact, while Ryousuke watched the graves recede in the sideview mirror, Keisuke kept his eyes steadily on the road ahead.


End file.
